


When Mary Wept

by mkidwell



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 33 AD, Aziraphale is an empath, Comfort, Crying, Empathy, Gabriel does have a heart!, Gen, Golgotha, Grief/Mourning, Heaven in 33 AD, I'm Bad At Tagging, Mary Mother of God - Freeform, No escalators, Sadness, When Jesus Died
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-08 17:53:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19475683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mkidwell/pseuds/mkidwell
Summary: Aziraphale returns from his (tragic) assignment in Golgotha. The angels are sad, Gabriel the saddest of all.





	When Mary Wept

It was a somber day in Heaven.

33 AD.

Aziraphale noticed all the angels shuffling to their business were … droopier than usual. No bounces in their steps. Even the sparkle in Aziraphale’s eyes had faded. Aziraphale returned from the Crucifixion, bidding Crowley farewell before they respectively took the long flights of stone stairs to their offices. Before they departed, Crowley said,

“Listen. I’m sorry for what I said earlier.”

Aziraphale let go of the banister and looked at Crowley, a little grateful he didn’t need to start his climb just yet. “Earlier?”

“Yeh. What I said … I thought about it.” Crowley shuffled. “I know you weren’t there to mock … him. Or gloat. I should have realized this was going to be a sour day for you and your lot—not that I care about them, er. I, I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

Aziraphale didn’t allow himself to mourn in front of Crowley. He didn’t want to bring up anything that had to do with Crowley before his Fall, including the Lord and her Son. He wished he could. He felt the Lord mourning, powerfully, and imagined Heaven would be unbearably morose when he returned to file his reports for the day. Aziraphale was touched that Crowley remembered.

“Thank you. I appreciate it. Today was a hard day.”

“Take care of yourself, Aziraphale,” Crowley murmured. He looked up at him with his yellow eyes, and Aziraphale was convinced they were glassy. “May we meet again on a better occasion.”

Aziraphale nodded as Crowley turned to go down his set of stairs. He watched as the demon’s dark cloak disappeared.

In Heaven, Aziraphale felt the sadness around him hit in waves. He changed out of his clothes, grimy with sand, into pearly linen robes. He looked around for a familiar face. Someone he could talk to.

Sandalphon walked by, his eyes to the ground. Aziraphale quickened his pace and tapped his shoulder when he caught up to him.

The senior angel raised an eyebrow. “Mm. ‘Ziraphale.”

“Sandalphon. How are you?”

With a frown, Sandalphon exhaled through his nose. “Dandy.”

And he left.

Aziraphale looked around. The angels were trying to look busy. Distracted. No one was going to talk to him.

“Better get this paperwork in,” he mumbled. He kept his eyes to his feet as he walked toward Gabriel’s office.

• • •

When he knocked on Gabriel’s door, Aziraphale received no answer. He knocked a little harder when Gabriel snapped, “What? Come in, what?”

Aziraphale stepped into Gabriel’s office and looked around the dark room. It was sparse save for a large window that looked out to a large ocean. The views from Heaven varied from place to place, but what an angel could see was always splendid and wondrous. Gabriel was furiously scribbling with a quill and stamping documents. Aziraphale cleared his throat when he arrived at Gabriel’s golden nameplate.

Gabriel’s eyes looked up for a brief moment to ascertain who had entered. His eyes returned to his papers. “Aziraphale. You have your reports from today?”

“I do, Gabriel.” He handed him a small pile of weathered parchment. “All is there.”

Gabriel took the documents with one hand and set them down on his desk. Still scribbling. “You can go.”

Aziraphale stood there, feeling fully ignored by Gabriel. He slowly raised a hand.

“Gabriel, I—”

“I don’t have time for pleasantries.”

“I—I know, I understand, I just—”

“I’m busy,” Gabriel said, keeping his eyes to his assignment. “I suggest you get busy, too.”

“To be honest, I don’t know … how,” Aziraphale said lamely. “This mood—”

“Is terrible, yes, but our jobs don’t stop just because our Lord’s beloved Son is gone.” Gabriel’s head shot up, and his lilac eyes pierced Aziraphale’s hazel ones. Aziraphale gasped. “Get it together and get back to work.”

Aziraphale stared back at Gabriel, his gaze unbroken. Gabriel became unsettled. The principality didn’t budge.

“What’s … the problem,” Gabriel said through gritted teeth.

“Gabriel … were you crying?”

The amethyst rings of Gabriel’s eyes were surrounded by a sea of pale pink instead of white. Aziraphale also noticed that Gabriel’s hair was rather unkempt. And his robes looked more disheveled than usual.

“Get out,” Gabriel said in a cold whisper.

Aziraphale shook his head. This was not defiance, the principality reasoned. This was pain. Now the sadness was really hitting him—it was if it was all concentrated at Gabriel’s desk, reverberating through all of Heaven. Aziraphale looked behind him and snapped his fingers. Gabriel’s office door was closed shut.

Keeping his head toward the door, Aziraphale said, “I know this is a terrible day. I’m hurting, too. We all are, you know this. And I just want you to know that I’m sorry. I know this is a hard day for you especially.”

“Everyone’s sorry, everyone’s sad,” Gabriel replied, sour, rolling his eyes even though Aziraphale wasn’t looking.

“You’re the Archangel Gabriel,” Aziraphale said softly. He turned back to the desk and stepped forward, pressing a finger to the nameplate. “You told the mother of our savior that she will bear the Son of God.” He swallowed. “And her son died today.”

Gabriel’s eyes became heavy as he sat back in his seat, dropping the quill. Aziraphale continued, his voice hushed, “I was there, Gabriel. You sent me. She wept. She wept and wept and wept. She was surrounded by strangers who felt sorry for her, the same ones who put Him on the cross. But I saw her. She loved her son. Just as you loved her.”

Gabriel closed his eyes and stood up, sighing, walking to the large window. He pressed his forehead to glass, opening his eyes to stare out at the ocean.

“Getting that assignment …” the Archangel began, his voice now soft and gentle, “was … the biggest, most important day of my life.” Aziraphale watched Gabriel as he let his fingertips graze the window. “I couldn’t screw it up. She was so scared. But I was there. And I told her, ‘Don’t be afraid, Mary. The Lord is with you. You’re going to be a mother and have a son. The Son of God.’ And I knew today was coming—and … I couldn’t go. I left her alone.”

Gabriel wiped his eyes. Aziraphale should have been shocked at the tears but he wasn’t. The archangel took a breath. “I couldn’t be there. God wouldn’t let me. But, honestly, I don’t know if I could have been strong enough for her anyway. As she watched …”

A hand rested on Gabriel’s shoulder. Gabriel looked down at Aziraphale, who offered a small, tiny, comforting smile. He didn’t breathe.

“Our Mary suffers today, more than we do and more than we could know,” Aziraphale said. “But believe me, we’re with her. And she’ll see Him again. It’s just a matter of time.”

Aziraphale stepped back and nodded. Gabriel looked so tired.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

Gabriel watched as Aziraphale turned the doorknob and exit the office. The door shut gently. Gabriel looked around his office, quiet and empty, before turning back to the waves. He wept.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos welcome & appreciated! Thank you! <3


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